


Milk and Cookies

by morgan_cian



Series: Texas [12]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-12
Updated: 2008-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:52:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan_cian/pseuds/morgan_cian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sal and Paul, pre-Texas II</p>
            </blockquote>





	Milk and Cookies

Paul felt a little devious and knew Sal had every right to punish him for taking such liberties. But his loving master wouldn’t hurt him. He was just itching for a good spanking and he could goad Sal into being rough on occasion.

 

But still, he looked around the mass destruction of the large kitchen and sighed. Maybe trying his hand at cooking wasn’t such a good idea. Not only could he not read the directions but Sal had never given him permission to use the facilities. He knew he could be skating on thin ice when Brooks took one look at the devastation and backed away quickly.

 

He just wanted to make cookies and the box had pictures that he thought he could follow fairly reasonably. But he shattered the eggs, the mix spilled, and the oil had slipped through his fingers. And to top it off instead of light chocolate chip cookies he thought he could share with his master in bed turned into blackened lumps of charred nastiness.

 

And now he faced the daunting task of cleaning the mess before Sal returned with no clue as to where to start.

 

“Beautiful?”

 

His heart sank. Of course, Sal would be early.

 

“Paul?” Sal stood in the doorway, his face a mix of surprise and confusion.

 

“Sal,” He said quickly, “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up, I, well, uh...” He backed up against a counter putting the large marble island in between them.

 

But Sal’s lips twitched into a grin, “What’s the damage, beautiful? Are those, well, what are they supposed to be?”

 

Relief pooled into his gut. That was Sal and he should know better by now. It took a lot to ruffle the man’s feathers.

 

“Cookies,” He said impishly, “Want one?”

 

Sal pushed a black lump with one long finger before looking up. Paul felt his cock surge at the lust glittering in the blue eyes.

 

“Come here.” The low command had Paul shuddering as he stood before the man. The warm hand cupped his neck and the gentle pressure had him lowering down to his knees. “That’s right, beautiful. I see right through you.”

 

He moaned as the long fingers carded through his hair. The man’s groin was right before his eyes. He licked his lips and looked up.

 

“You want it don’t you? My cock, my hand, my attention,” The dark deliciousness of his master’s voice wound its way through his body. He nodded and his hair was tugged viciously. “You want to be punished, don’t you, then say it.” 

 

“Please,” He whispered, his head was jerked back.

 

“Again.”

 

“Please, master.”

 

“You may.”

 

He whimpered and opened his master’s pants. The fingers in his hair gentled. And as the moist flesh slipped between his lips, his eyes were on his master’s. He moaned in happiness as the fingers slid through his hair.

 

“That’s right, my good boy, you want to be my good boy,” Sal’s hips thrust forward easily and he opened his throat to receive the hard flesh that went deeper.

 

He worked his tongue over the ridges and the veins. The taste of his master was sharp on his tongue as he suckled the wide head. His mind slowly drifted down and away until his focus was solely on the cock in his mouth, the scent of his master in his nose, and the tender fingers in his hair.

 

When the cock was pulled from his mouth with a quiet pop, he growled lowly. The fingers tugged his hair and had him catching his breath.

 

“Up.” He stood gracefully, the pins and needles sensation a momentary distraction as his master kissed him hard enough to bruise. The lips then traveled to his ear and nipped him hard enough to gasp. “Go the bedroom, strip, and kneel.” He blinked and a firm blow to his ass had him moving.

 

He was not sure how long he knelt but long enough that his mind was blank and his body pliant. His posture was perfect, straight back, ass on his heels, hands at the small of his back, and his thighs spread. The weight of his chain helped to center him.

 

His master’s warm hands helped move him to his feet and then across his master’s lap. He keened as the globes of his ass were massaged and his cock rubbed against his master’s silky thigh. He let himself go. The first strike was like lightning up his spine and behind his eyes. He did not flinch; he was in his master’s care.

 

His bottom warmed and then flared as he rocked into the powerful palm. The warmth became fire and tears began to leak. When his master changed from using his hand to a paddle he cried out, “Master!” His cock surged and black spots danced.

 

When he opened his eyes, he was tucked under the blankets, the cool cotton sheets against his naked body. A rattle caused him to look towards the doorway. His mouth twitched at Sal, dressed in a robe of silk and carrying a tray.

 

“I see those eyes, beautiful.” Sal said tenderly and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “You feel like sitting up.”

 

He blinked sleepily and felt the bruising in his ass. He rolled over onto his side and muttered, “Not yet, my ass would boycott.”

 

Sal chuckled and patted his blanket covered ass affectionately. He growled and Sal laughed out right, “Serves you right for the aftermath of World War III in the kitchen.”

 

Paul winced at the reminder but welcomed the outcome. He narrowed his eyes as Sal settled on the bed beside him, the robe parting to reveal the creamy skin of his muscular chest and hint of nipple. He licked his lips wishing he had the tight bud in between his teeth.

 

“Not yet, beautiful,” Sal’s voice cut through his thoughts. He watched as Sal arranged things on the tray, “What, you want one?”

 

He pushed himself up higher on his arms and peered into the tray. He snorted at the tray of milk and cookies.


End file.
